


I'd Rather Have You

by sapphire_child



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Coda, Episode: s10e22 The Prisoner, Gen, M/M, Mark of Cain, POV Dean Winchester, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What he’s about to do to Cas, for Cas, is born from love. Or at least Dean would like to think it is.</i>
</p><p>Or in which Dean is hurting and selfish and tries to justify to himself beating the crap out of Cas. Dean POV at the end of 10x22. Can be read through Destiel coloured glasses, or just as plain old love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Rather Have You

Dean can’t recall the moment when Cas became…well. I mean, when exactly did his name become synonymous with family? When had Dean’s brain started including Cas when he spoke candidly about the people who loved him?

Never mind that he knew how angels worked. Never mind that while some of Cas’ actions might imitate love, even devotion if they were coming from another human...

And that’s just the thing ain’t it? Dean knows how angels are dammit. He’s been around enough of them to know. But then Cas hasn’t been a proper angel for a long time. Even before he became human there was something about him and that sure as hell hasn’t changed, even though he definitely has. Through betrayal and insanity, through resurrections, and Purgatory, and stolen grace and an oh-so human search for redemption. There was always this…profound bond or brotherhood or love or whatever the hell it was between them.

So sue him, Dean cares about Cas. He’s man enough to admit that. And he has somewhat of an inkling that the guy probably cares about him as well. Sure they don’t always talk about it, but they know.

Maybe that’s why this whole damn thing with the book and Charlie hurts so much. Namely because Cas and Sam’s betrayal came about because of their love for _him_.

What he’s about to do to Cas, for Cas, is also born from love. Or at least Dean would like to think it is.

“You can leave now Cas.”

 _That’s your first and only warning._ The thought is broken, his fragile hold on his own humanity slipping away. _For god’s sake take it._

“No. I can’t.” Stubborn as always, Cas stands his ground. He might look and sound like a petulant kid trying to haggle for a later bedtime, but this is dangerous ground they’re treading and Dean is barely hanging on as it is. “Because I’m your friend.”

The conversation doesn’t cover anything Dean doesn’t know already. It’s the same old spiel, the ‘we have to save you’ crap that all of them have pulled a dozen times. _You’re worth saving – not at that price. We can fix this – what if I don’t want you to. Etcetera_. Underneath the thin veneer of clichés are layers of old promises. They overlap like new scar tissue on an old wound. Same old, same old.

And then Cas drops something that Dean wasn’t quite expecting. Something that makes his mouth run dry and his stomach lurch.

“…everyone except me.”

And just like that, Dean can’t look him in the eye.

Once, a long time ago, in a moment of terror and pain, Dean had blurted out some of his own home truths. The kind of stuff he never said out loud to anyone. _We’re family. We need you. I need you._ And then again, in Purgatory, _I need you._

It’s the closest he’s ever gotten to admitting just how much he actually cares and now Cas has responded in kind. _I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. No matter what you become, I will watch over you._

The thought actually fucking terrifies him.

He always knew when he finally went nuclear (and he will go nuclear) that he wanted to be as far away from Sam, from Cas, as he possibly can. Because if they can’t kill him then they’ll try to stop him, and then…well then he’ll finally become the monster he’s always feared he would turn into. The monster that Cain and Crowley and circumstance has groomed him to become.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you.” Cas’ firm grip on Dean’s shoulder is as much of a warning as his words. And Dean knows. He fucking _knows_ that this is the angel officially reneging on the promise he never quite made. Cas isn’t just talking about trying to restrain Dean here, in the bunker, while he and Sam try and figure out the cure. This isn’t a warning about how much damage he could feasibly do to Dean now that he’s juiced up. Cas doesn’t think he has the stomach to kill Dean. Full stop. At least not while there’s the tiniest sliver of hope left that he might be able to save him. The stubborn ass is going to keep coming after him, keep trying to save him.

Unless Dean can somehow convince him not to.

Cas doesn’t fight back, even though he obviously isn't surprised by the assault. He makes a few half-hearted attempts to block the worst of the blows and Dean tosses him aside as quickly as he dares.

He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.

“Dean,” Cas pushes gingerly onto his feet as Dean makes a move to leave. He is gentle, coaxing, bleeding. “Stop.”

And it’s that one word. That one single syllable. So simple, so easy. Stop. Just stop. A sensory memory strikes; Cain’s voice, calm and accepting; I will never stop.

It is a fresh rush of unadulterated fury and anguish that drives Dean back into the fray.

 _You want me to stop?_ He demands with fists and knees and boots. _What, like I asked you to stop? Like I asked Sam?_

Every punch, every jab of knee and elbow, every ferocious slam of that beloved face into solid wood is as painful as it is cathartic.

 _You promised me Cas._ Slam. _You promised me you would end it._ Slam. _Coward!_

And through it all Cas still doesn’t fight back. Allows himself to be dragged and rolled and pinned. When Dean is finally poised over Cas, he wonders fleetingly if this is what he looked like in the crypt, begging for his life to be spared. If he looked as pathetic, as broken and bloodied.

As full of quietly devastating hope.

Anger flares again at the thought and he grips Cas’ tie, jerks it furiously aside like he’s leashing a disobedient dog. The Mark is screaming for blood, deafening in its brutality. The angel blade trembles slightly in his hand as he grasps it tighter and thinks, traitorously, _if you loved me, you would have killed me like I asked you to._

Cas wheezes, his fractured arm lolls forward and his hand catches at Dean’s wrist in the weakest of touches.

“Dean…” his voice rattles, gurgles around a throat full of blood. “Please…”

And he’s pleading yes, but not for his life. This is an apology. It might even be a prayer. And maybe, it’s _if you love me then you’ll kill me now so I don’t have to see what you’ll become._

It would be better to kill Cas now, out of love. Kinder even. The same way that putting Dean down before he went dark side would have been.

But Dean is hurting and alone and selfish.

He leaves the bunker on heavy feet and as Cas stares at the blade embedded deep into the book next to his head all Dean can do is desperately hope that he understands why.

_Looks like I’m a coward too Cas. Just like you._


End file.
